20120107

For what is this realism in the heroic state? Attached to garbled words, the sorry song of wanting. The effervescent apathy cursing in magnificent world order is no match for real feeling.

20111128

Mapped on your body. Base of spine. If a cat you have lost 3 lives.
My lives are my loves. I too have 6 left.
A rather unusual series of events...
Heavy hearted because who doesn't want to feel?
Heavy mouths will feed. An accolade of what once was and what will continue to be. Suddenly. Almost immediate, heart sinking amongst rising floods of approaching tears.
Howl at the sun the moon is not enough. Sink wolf teeth into stone. Flesh falls from bones. Dare with mercury in vocal chords. Touch peaked too prematurely. It was marginally excusable. Now fraudulent absentian. Blown skin has chewed your tongue. You are a real human being.
Abrasion. Cold. Coldly going. Going down the frosted path I should never have allowed my feet to tread. Intercept thought processes. But it's not good enough.
My blanket of sun won't dry your sodden grey clouds. Repulsive. Look! Look how they hang in the abyss. Drenching smiles with acute deluge. This sorry atmosphere between us... no.
Route our pain with maps. Keep in with army tracks.
Easy, so... we'll circle the view. In stratum. Into this so I wander with you. Tick; it means devoutness.
Stroke the inter.
Grand plans we made in seas and rock of prominent cities. There, in surprise and certainty, so rich and decadent as much as flavoured with bitter ground reality.
Crumble around us. Left scattered amongst brick and mortar. Our dust of broken hearts will settle into new tracks.
And if we walk them again the dust will rise with fury and irritate my skin. It will indulge my weak lungs to frenzy. I will not breathe and I will sneeze from the force of travelling songs emptying from my throat and nerves, spilling on to the dusty road we made but should never have taken.
But carry on.
Give to melancholia your fated hysteria.
Even if your sweet mind can't hold your weary thoughts, your legs will push on forward. One in front of the other. Pushing against the northerly winds while your response kicks back. And so you shall see, I was right all along.

20111031

In the dark hours, when I should sleep
the light burns bright and fires are still deeply burning a flame higher and higher for you.
I will myself to break this ache
I still want to be close to you.
To just. Hold hands. Grasp at fingers. Move together.
I am moved by you. I am on my knees. On my knees so raw and calloused from dragging my heavy body through a daily routine.
But in the end, I am a woman in need. That need was not sated.
I am broken by the cause. I am destroyed by the solution.
But to just. Be with you. Take your hands. Trace your bones.
Bones. Laid bare.
Bones; grey and infected by a poison called -.
It runs deep and through fluid and solid matter
It does matter. We are still one. Or am I now half.
But to just hold you and touch you and feel you next to me. I would be happier with your flesh enveloping my flesh.
I will wait for you. Perhaps one day I will forget I was waiting. But deep inside, the poison will remain and I will be waiting like we waited.
Before we made it; we needed. And I was Naoko.
Come to my funeral. Cry. Seep out your poison.
It must end. But. To just hold you. I would cry and the poison would replenish from watering.
One Day.
You shine as silver when we convalesce in autumn sun. Such beauty reserved itself for this day. We spoke once of foul play. Never, in our heart, will such misdemeanors encourage poison to rush forwards through blue veins. We inject secret effusion each morning in glorious moments. Lips touching and devouring heady scent to remind us that we are floating with the greatest of ease down the longest river. An overflow, our love, a pure source of lust.
I noticed your stretched out toes and wanted to press my fingers in the soft gaps. You restful positions are both amusing and endearing. I want to cuddle next to your beautiful being and listen to the sweet purr as I touch the velvet ears
My body as a shell. My heart as a tomb. Waves flooded in those days where your face lit up the caverns. Now mere trickles slowly creep in. I will never again feel the rapturous tides of immense adoration. Your waters swelled in pure and filling emotion. Crisp and quenching I savoured each drop. I take these small trickles that barely cover the solid rock deep at the bottom of this shell. Those walls will grow moss. My tomb will be dank. It will cling to the mediocre supply of life filtering through. My dear. My tomb is nothing without you.

I was consumed by your breath, your presence, your touch. The first night, so real and full of love, clings on to my memory and I cannot leave it behind. I will not forget you. I will not stop loving you.

20111012

Long drawn out pauses have been replaced by incessant mumblings.
I am talking to you. Honest and desperate - curls of uncertain fragments push out from my lips. Immediately they are wafted away like bothersome smoke. You tell me that it’s not dignified but you are the one breaking apart my words until they have lost all fundamental truth.
Oh. We made this together. An uncalculated expression of desire and resignation; we needn’t have bothered. It has launched us into a continuum of nothing at all. Severity not fully understood but it will not improve after the event. Words are replaced by smiles that hide real feelings. But they cannot be shared until grass has been replaced by snow.
Matter-of-fact, succinct; banality of things said by millions of others. We are nothing special but I am still hurting. The incessant mumblings will stop.

> > > >

The silence has cast a damp shadow over our frenzied eyes.
With solemn faces, I look into your pupils. They are cold and small. Once upon a time, our eyes dilated in the instant that we saw each other. Large ebony moons in the flooded oceans of blue and green. But those oceans are deserts now and our moons are but insignificant pebbles on grey streets.
Say, did you offer me an embrace? A warm hopeful embrace making me sink into the sand? Or was that a mistake on my part? Is it more a closed cocoon where you will hide me from any other watchers? I may feel safe there but today has shown the falsity of that haven. A moment in which we both come together, but the space is greater than it is when we’re apart. The eyes tell me so.
Stretching pupils, stretching womb. I stretch to touch your face. I am extending and cradling, deeply hurting and silently staring. The shadow does not yet lift.

20111004

Crisp clicks and ticks of keys
smooth letters fixed in place
softly they give to the push of words
drowned out by white noise
and still these white tiles are clicking

I take them in my mouth
I take them in my heart
I feel them beneath red fingertips

Patient flash, white glare
clogged atmosphere heeds
little black ants from left to right
unsure of meaning
and still these white tiles are clicking

I took you in my mouth
I took you in my heart
I felt you between red fingertips

Exuding innocence
Seeping filth; glory days
Decadent in the profound I waited
Devil's hands snail pace
and still these white tiles are clicking

I took it from your mouth
I took them from your heart
I took you from red fingertips

20110921

We went to that place where the silence stung our eyes
Sticks and stones. Holding their own against broken words.
Touched and made. Lying in reprieve.
An eventuality to halt and relieve.

Sumptuous moments there beyond affection and bitterness
Electric and statism. Beating in a stained room of fullness.
Just a glance. Looking without seeing.
Feeling. We are still one being.

Cotton and stitch transfer emotion between two hearts
Excuses to touch and claim adoration amongst curious crowds.
Tears will drop. Slowly but persistent
Unfaltering. But you're resistant.

20110916

You have exhausted my waters
Your thirst for me
left me dry. You
took away every last drop
and now I cannot help myself.

Little love. You gave me great.